Someone else in the Cupboard
by DaughterofHades16
Summary: I've changed the title. Raven Floorboard is a borrower, and she was best friends with James and Lily Potter as well as the other Marauders. Follow her as she finds her way into the most exciting adventure of her life. Rated T for language.
1. Prologue

I still remember Lily and James. They were my good friends, my best friends, as well as the other Marauders. I remember them in life…and death.

I'm Raven Floorboard. I'm a borrower, one who borrows things they need from humans (we don't give them back, but we call it borrowing). I am also a half-blood witch and an unofficial member of the Order of the Phoenix. I used to live at Hogwarts. But that was so long ago, and I was so young then.

* * *

I don't remember much before learning to borrow. My father taught me at the very young age of four. Around that time, my mum died and dad brought me to Hogwarts.

I was about three and a half inches tall at the time. Borrowers are small compared to humans and never exceed six inches tall. As I mentioned earlier, my dad taught me to borrow, and I became very good at it by the age of four and a half. That's a very early age to be borrowing.

One day, dad went out borrowing for food for dinner. I waited for him for hours; he didn't come back. I waited longer, but he never turned up.

By morning, it was clear that he wasn't coming back.

I tucked myself into my bed under the floor of the Gryffindor Common Room, realizing that when I woke up, I would be alone. I'd have to take care of myself.

Over the next three years, I grew another inch and borrowed what I needed from the Common Room and the Kitchen.

I was caught borrowing one day by a group of seventh-year students who called themselves the Marauders. Specifically, the one named Sirius trapped me in a jar. The boys joked around, but the girl who hung out with them, Lily, pitied me. She insisted they bring me to the Headmaster.

Dumbledore seemed amazed at the sight of me and told the one named James to let me out. Dumbledore seemed to be trusted, so when asked, I told them about my father. I even showed them my father's borrowing bag, which could hold more than it seemed to. I demonstrated by pulling a long pencil from it.

Dumbledore deduced that the only way that the bag could be under an Undetectable Extension Charm was if one of my parents was a witch or wizard. And since it was my father's bag, we guesstimated that it was him. Therefore, it could be assumed that I was a witch.

The Marauders and I became the best of friends, even though they were humans and I was a borrower. I especially grew close to Lily and James.

After they graduated, Lily took me to Diagon Alley to buy me a wand. Olivander, the wand seller, smiled when he saw me in Lily's hand. He told me he remembered my father sneaking in to buy a wand. "Pine, unicorn hair," he muttered.

After a long process of Olivander choosing wands, Lily shrinking them, me waving them, and Olivander taking them and changing them back, I was chosen by a jet-black wand made from yew wood with a phoenix feather core. "A very powerful wand. I predict talent and excellence from you," Olivander told me with a smile.

James bought me something as well. He got me a Firebolt so I wouldn't be limited by the ground.

James proposed to Lily not long after, and I moved into their house with them. They were fully aware of my habits as a borrower and didn't mind at all.

The former Marauders joined the Order of the Phoenix to fight against the rising Dark Lord. I joined, too; I wanted to help as much as I could to fight against Voldemort.

Almost a decade passed, and I turned seventeen in August. Lily had just had a son, whom she and James named Harry. They made Sirius Black, one of James' best friends, Harry's godfather.

In October a year later, Lily and James realized that they were marked for death by the Dark Lord. The original intention was that Sirius and I would be their Secret Keepers, but at the last minute Sirius suggested Peter Pettigrew.

It was Halloween night. Outside, muggle children shrieked in fear and laughter.

Midnight was nearing, and Lily was upstairs with Harry and James was downstairs with me, experimenting.

James had been working on an Ageless Charm for weeks, and had come up with a breakthrough. I volunteered myself as someone he'd tested on. His charm turned out successful, meaning that I didn't blow up.

I was made ageless that night, but not invulnerable.

James was greatly excited about the success of his project, and ran up the stairs to tell Lily.

I remember smiling, preparing myself to jump off of the table on which I stood. Before I could, the door behind me opened. I turned, looking at a wizard in a dark hooded cloak. I knew immediately who it was.

With a flick of his wand, he trashed the entire downstairs. I was sent flying into the wall. The intruder began to ascent the stairs slowly, savoring his moment of victory.

I'd lost my wand, but I quickly apparated to the upstairs nursery, where James and Lily were playing with Harry.

"James! Lily!" I called. I warned them that the Dark Lord was here and would be there any—

I never finished my sentence. The door burst open, and James drew his wand while Lily shielded Harry.

James threw spell after spell at Voldemort, pushing him outside the room. As they exchanged spells, walls were being blown open and pictures were being shattered. "Close the door! Keep Harry safe!" James yelled over the commotion. Lily quickly closed and locked the door, gripping Harry close to her chest.

She and I shrieked in horror as we heard the Dark Lord utter the most evil curse and saw a green light flash from the crack under the door. Lily turned around, putting herself between Harry and the door, which exploded open. I was thrown to the floor by the blast, and Lily screamed in terror. One of Harry's heavy toys landed on my legs, pinning me. I tried pushing it off, but it was no use.

I can't even begin to describe what it was like to watch Voldemort kill Lily.

Voldemort turned to Harry, who had fallen out of Lily's grasp.

"No," I whispered.

"Avada Kedavra!"

The spell looked like it hit Harry, but it literally bounced off him, sending a shock wave through the room. Voldemort got the full blast of the spell, and his seeming lifeless body was sent crashing through the dry wall behind him. The toy was knocked off of me, and I slid, gently colliding with the only wall still standing.

A ghostly mist rose from Voldemort's chest, and a faint noise, like the hissing of a snake, filled the room as it diffused.

I struggled to my feet, rushing up to young Harry to make sure he was okay.

It turned out he had been touched by the curse, but only touched. A thin scar had formed on his forehead in the shape of a lightning bolt.

The child looked down at me, smiling as though he knew I was his friend.

"I'll be right back," I assured him. I dissapparated to the living room, quickly recovering my wand and apparated back.

During James and Voldemort's duel, several walls had been blasted, if not collapsed. Three of the nursery's walls had been destroyed, leaving nothing to support the ceiling. It was bending menacingly low, and it split, giving way.

I raised my wand, screaming "Protego!" a small shield formed around me and Harry.

I salvaged what I could from the wreckage while Harry fiddled with pieces of dry wall. I stuffed what I could find into my father's bag.

It was risky, but I took Harry by the hand and apparated with him to Number 12 Grimmauld Place.

Harry promptly spit up the formula Lily had given him earlier.

Fighting tears at the thought of Lily, I flicked my wand conjuring up a cloth that wiped his face clean.

As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I realized that we were several human paces away from the door. And Harry couldn't walk yet.

"Come on, Harry," I said, starting toward the door. The infant giggled, reaching for me as if I was a toy. I dodged his grasp, sighing. This wasn't going to work. I turned toward the door.

"Help!" I yelled. "Sirius! Somebody! Anybody! It's me, Raven!"

Sirius swung open the door. He looked around first, then down at me.

"Raven, what in Merlin's name are you doing at this time of night?"—he looked at Harry—"And with Harry?" He squatted down, lifting the one-year-old in his right arm. He looked down at me, his expression demanding an answer.

My throat closed in grief. I took in a shaky breath.

Sirius' expression softened. "Oh, no," he muttered. "Raven…where are James and Lily?"

I couldn't bear it any longer. I crumpled to my knees, sobbing.

Sirius gently picked me up with his left hand, carrying Harry in his right arm. He brought us inside.

Once I'd regained my composure, I told Sirius everything.

He immediately sent owls to Hagrid, Dumbledore, and Minerva McGonagall. They arrived shortly after.

Sirius ran off, leaving Dumblecore and the others to decide what to do with the boy.

"It had to be Pettigrew!" Sirius had pulled me into one of the upstairs rooms to explain. "No one other than you could've known where they were! I swear on their graves, I'll find the bastard and make him pay! He'll regret this!"

There was no stopping him.

Dumbledore and McGonagall left to search for Harry's only remaining blood family since Sirius was now out of the picture. Hagrid left to buy a few things, leaving me alone, other than Kreacher who was sulking in the attic, dusting.

I stayed by young Harry's side, comforted him when he cried for his mother, charming a spoon to feed him cream, and wrapped him in a blanket I'd saved from back at Godric's Hollow.

I kept the radio on, hoping it would bring comfort. The Dark Lord's defeat spread faster than I thought possible, because news of celebration throughout the wizarding world echoed through the house. A news flash occurred just before dawn that caught my attention. It said that Sirius Black had been arrested for the murder of a dozen muggles and Peter Pettigrew and sent to Azkaban. 'I knew he'd kill Pettigrew, but there's no way the Sirius I know would murder any muggles. He must've been framed,' I thought angrily.

The day wore on, and Hagrid and I hadn't heard from McGonagall or Dumbledore. Finally, around dusk, an owl came from Dumbledore. It read:

_Found a place where the boy can be  
raised safely._

_Please bring him as soon as possible  
to Number 4 Privet Drive, Little  
Winging_, _Surrey._

_Albus Dumbledore _

Hagrid helped me get young Harry in the basket he'd bought. We borrowed Sirius' flying motorcycle, and I sat in the basket with Harry during the flight. Sitting cross-legged next to the infant's head, I gently traced his scar with my finger as he drifted to sleep. All I could think about was how, like his parents, he'd be legend, the most famous wizard of the age.

Hagrid and I met up with the professors. Dumbledore took the basket from Hagrid, and he set it, with Harry and me in it, on the front step of Number 4. I was very reluctant to leave Harry. He was like my family, as James and Lily were.

"Raven," Dumbledore began. I looked up at him, tears of sentimentality and grief slowly forming and stinging my eyes. He knelt down, holding a letter in one hand

"I want you to stay with the boy. I will send an owl the first of every month, and I want you to report to me if anything goes wrong. Can you do that for me?"

A large lump formed in my throat, constricting my speech, so I nodded in response.

Dumbledore smiled. "Good. Now, about the muggle family that lives here, the Dursleys. It's best not to show yourself to them, unless it is of the utmost importance. You may reveal yourself to Harry when you feel he is ready. But be wary of the Dursleys. Keep him safe."

I unearthed my voice. "I will, professor."

He laid the letter in Harry's blankets, and he and the others left. I wiped away a tear that was rolling down my cheek. I drew my wand and cast a disillusionment charm over myself to hide, temporarily, from any muggle's eyes.

I followed Harry's lead, falling asleep in the basket. I was now entrusted with a mission: watch over the Boy who Lived.


	2. Ten Years Later

**A/N: YES! I'm finally updating!**

**Changechild****: She has a good reason that isn't explained in this story, but will be explained in the one based off of **_**Prisoner of Azkaban**_**. But beyond this reason, she knew no one would believe a five-inch-tall witch with no proof whatsoever. As the story goes on in **_**Prisoner of Azkaban**_**, she is torn between two friendships and two promises. She's conflicted most of the story, which, I think, is a very good suspenseful mood for the readers. Concerning telling Dumbledore, she knew that all the connections that he had in the Ministry would never believe Raven and a man that they believed was crazy and going senile. And, again, they had no proof. Thank you for your concern, I mightn't have thought of that until the third book based story was coming. Thanks.**

Chapter 2: Ten Years Later

Raven's POV

It wasn't easy, having to sit back, not aging for ten long years, and watch those horrible Muggles treat Harry the way they did.

I'd settled in under the floor of Harry's cupboard under the stairs. It was as close to him as I could get without being found.

As the years passed, I would indirectly help him.

Countless times, the Dursleys' horrid son Dudley would steal and break Harry's glasses and hide them. He always hid them in the same place each time (He didn't have a very creative mind) so I would take them, tape them, and leave them in Harry's cupboard.

Harry was always surprised by this, but he never did anything about it.

Harry was now ten, almost eleven. I was planning on allowing myself to be seen by him on his birthday in about a month. It happened a little earlier than I planned.

I was in Harry's cupboard killing spiders.

I did this for sport, since the cupboard was filled with them. I'd use my father's long hat pin to stab the nearest spider, then put the dead bodies in my bag to later scatter them in Dudley's room later.

I didn't find out until later that Harry'd accidentally burned the Dursley's lunch, received a beating, a d was sent to his cupboard.

The cupboard door swung open as I stabbed a spider on the middle shelf. I turned, smiling at the black-haired, bespectacled boy ducking into the cupboard and closing the door. I slid the dead spider's carcass off my pin and into my bag.

"Hello, Harry Potter," I greeted, smiling.

He yelped in surprise, hitting his head on the low ceiling. He massaged the spot where he hit.

"Are you alright, Harry?"

He gasped, turning to me. His eyes were wide, almost filling his classes.

"Ho-how do you know my name?" he stammered.

"I've lived here a long time, almost the same time as you." I vaguely explained.

"Who are you?" he inquired.

"Oh, sorry, excuse me. I should've introduced myself. My name's Raven. I'd shake your hand, but look at me," I chuckled, gesturing to all of me.

He smiled faintly, but his eyes were still as wide as dinner plates.

"Erm…not to be rude, but what exactly are you?"

I sat down, letting my legs dangle over the edge of the shelf.

"I'm called a borrower. We borrow we borrow things we need from humans. Normally, I'd be breaking our ancient laws and rules, being seen by you. But this is a special case."

"How special?"

Instead of answering him, I tilted my head. "You look so like your father. All but your eyes; they're your mother's."

Harry leaned forward. "You knew my parents?" he asked.

I nodded. "Yes. Good people. Wonderful people. They were my best friends. Well, until…" I stopped there. A lump had formed in my throat. I lowered my head.

"I know," Harry said.

I shot my head up. He knew?

"Until the car crash." He finished.

I was confused until I remembered that was the Dursley's excuse about Harry's parents' deaths and his scar.

I nodded. "Yeah. Car crash,"

What was I supposed to say? "No, they were murdered"? It wasn't the time.

"So," Harry said, trying to change the subject, "do you live in the house?"

"I do, actually," I said, once again smiling. "Directly beneath where you sit to be exact."

Harry raised his eyebrows. He moved to the side, lifting his thin mattress. There was one floorboard with hinges on it. He lifted it, revealing my little bedroom. He gaped in awe.

Closing the board and putting his mattress back he turned to me and asked, "Are there more little people like you living here?"

My smile faded slightly. "No. No, I'm the only one." I said.

"Oh," he said, looking sad and a little disappointed. "Why not?"

"Three reasons," I said, counting on my fingers, "Vernon, Dudley, and Petunia."

Harry laughed, possibly for the first time in years. "Okay, good point. Then why did you stay, knowing there were here?"

"I knew you were here," I answered simply. "James and Lily were my best friends. I couldn't just leave their only son. You're like the family I never had."

He smiled.

I stood, shouldering my bag. "I'm gonna go. I've gotta leave Dudley an early birthday present," I said, smirking mischievously and gesturing toward my bag with my head.

Harry's smile faded. "Oh, yeah. Dudley's birthday. How could I forget?" he looked at me. "What's in the bag?"

"Dead spiders," I grinned.

I tried to avoid coming out the next day. I knew that Vernon and Petunia had gotten Dudley one less present than last year, and I didn't feel like being on a table he flips…again.

I came out once or twice to keep an eye on Harry from the high rafters. I noticed he spent extra time getting around looking behind vases and photos, as if he expected something or someone (A.K.A. me) to be hiding behind them. He'd get barked at by Vernon or Petunia for dawdling.

Harry got the opportunity this year to accompany Dudley and one of his friends on their outing to the zoo. I mentally wished him luck as they drove off.

I sat on the chimney stack, looking out at Privet Drive. It wasn't a very glamorous street. It was really a dull street. The kind you'd pass on the way to a more important place, the kind you notice out of the corner of your eye, but don't pay any attention to.

I jumped in surprise when a small brown owl, not much larger than I was, landed next to me. I stood, smiling.

"Hey, Lightning."

Lightning is the owl that Dumbledore got for me and him to correspond. I walked over, untying the note on his leg and unfolding it. Dumbledore wrote that he was going to send Harry's Hogwarts letter soon and he wanted to know exactly where he stayed.

Dumbledore liked specifics, this I knew.

I pulled out a pencil from my bag, turning the letter over to the back. I waved my wand, and the pencil wrote _The Cupboard under The Stairs_. I figured that Dumbledore knew the rest. The letter folded itself, and then tied itself to Lightning's leg. He sped off.

Not long after, the Dursley's van pulled up the drive Vernon was already red with rage, so I expected that Harry would be sent to his cupboard within the next two minutes.

I went back inside, racing through the walls to get back to the cupboard. I heard outside the cupboard door open, slam, and lock.

I appeared on Harry's shelf. Looking up at him, I noticed he kind of looked depressed and bewildered at once.

I leaned against the wall. "So I'm guessing the outing didn't go so well?" I said, shooing away a spider.

"Harry looked down at me sadly. "Hi, Raven. It was horrible!"

"You want to talk about it?"

He told me about the snake and the glass disappearing.

"And now Uncle Vernon's locked me in here for who knows how long with no meals," he concluded miserably.

"You know, if it's food you're worried about, I can help with that." I said, shrugging off my bag and dropping it at my feet.

"So I'm going to live off of food that fits in a bag smaller than my thumb?" he asked.

"Well, this bag's different, special…magic, if you will. It's bigger on the inside than it is on the outside. And I have access to every room in the house. Therefore—"

"You can sneak food from the kitchen in here," he finished.

I smiled, nodded, and re-shouldered my bag.

Harry smiled widely.

He and I spent a month in that cupboard. I would bring him food (the Dursleys had so much, they didn't notice any was missing) and keep him company. I told him more about myself, and I got caught up with him.

Occasionally, I'd humor him by "battling" his action figures with my pin/sword.

Finally, in July, Harry was allowed back outside his cupboard. By then, school had ended and the summer holidays had begun.

I went borrowing while he made breakfast for himself and the Dursleys. I was raiding the Christmas decorations for a new light. Right as I found one, an owl screeched outside. I smiled, quickly unscrewing the bulb and replacing it with the old one. I hurried downstairs, running along the rafters. I dropped down from the rafters and onto a table cluttered with pictures of Dudley. I looked over, seeing Harry's Hogwarts letter among the other letters.

If I'd known what would happen, I would've taken the letter to give to Harry later. But I figured he should find it for himself.

I turned as I heard a human coming. I could even feel him coming.

Borrowers develop a 'feeling' that happens when a human's around. It doesn't hurt, but I've gotten used to it. But I still recognize it every time. Mine goes like this: my ankles and wrists begin to ache, spreading to the joints in my fingers and toes.

Anyway, Harry walked by and I relaxed. He picked up the mail, noticing the one unmistakably addressed to him.

He walked back to the kitchen, handing the other mail to Vernon.

I watched from the rafters as Dudley stole Harry's letter before he could open it all the way, giving it to his father.

Basically, Vernon and Petunia flipped out. They shut themselves in the kitchen after throwing Harry and Dudley out. I, of course, eavesdropped on the conversation.

"Vernon," Petunia was saying in a quivering voice, "look at the address — how could they possibly know where he sleeps? You don't think they're watching the house?"

"Watching — spying — might be following us," muttered Vernon wildly.

I laughed to myself. I left, knowing that I would never get the letter back. Knowing Vernon? It'd be burnt immediately.

I felt a little guilty about not telling Harry what was in the letter when he asked, but I wanted that moment when he opened his letter for the first time to be special.

We were talking in the cupboard when Vernon surprised us both and visited him in the cupboard. I quickly dove behind a can, which contained stubs of pencils, peeking to make sure that Vernon didn't hurt Harry.

"Where's my letter? Who's writing to me?" Harry asked almost instantly as Vernon squatted, his fat body barely fitting through the door.

"No one. It was addressed to you by mistake. I've burned it."

I knew it.

"It was _not_ a mistake, it had my cupboard on it!" said Harry.

"SILENCE!" Vernon yelled. I covered my ears and a spider fell in front of me from the ceiling. I kicked it away and relaxed my arms.

I looked back and saw a fearful sight. Vernon was forcing a painful smile. Something was up.

"Er—yes, Harry—about this cupboard. Your aunt and I have been thinking…you're really getting big for it…we think it might be nice if you moved into Dudley's second bedroom."

Yes. Dudley has a second bedroom for his broken or misused old things.

"Why?" Harry asked.

"Don't ask questions!" Vernon snapped. That was his major rule for Harry: don't ask questions. "Take this stuff upstairs, now."

It wouldn't be hard to bring all of Harry's things upstairs in one trip, even with me and my things in a box among them.

When we got upstairs, he set the box that contained my things on the bedside nightstand. I pushed off the top and climbed out. I could hear Dudley whining—or rather, screaming and fake crying—at Petunia to get Harry out of the room. He stretched out on the bed, obviously miserable.

"I'm gonna look around a little, settle in." I informed him.

He rolled onto his side, looking at me. "I thought you knew every room in this house," he said.

"Well, I've never had a reason to come in here."

"True." He removed his glasses, placing them on the nightstand near me, and then rolled over onto his other side, seemingly falling asleep.

I smiled. "Good night, Harry." I jumped down to the floor, and as soon as I did my smile melted. As I moved my things under the floor beneath Harry's bed, I thought about the Dursleys. There was no was no way that they would move Harry up into a bedroom—even the smallest—just to be nice. They were trying to throw us off our guard. They wouldn't. My thoughtful frown twisted into a mischievous smile as I made my way to the roof.

I stood on the shingled roof, raising my wand to the sky. "Accio Lightning!"

While I waited, I took out a pencil and piece of parchment. I wrote: _Dursleys moved Harry. Changed to _The smallest bedroom._ Re-send letter._

The next moment, the small owl whizzed through the air, landing in front of me. I tied the note to his leg, sending him off to Dumbledore.

I could summarize the next week or so in three—wait, no, four—words: Vernon went _completely_ crazy.

The next day, a second letter came for Harry. It came pretty quick, but there was a reason Dumbledore and I named the owl Lightning.

But Vernon got hold of that letter as well.

Later, Harry and I were talking. He told me that he'd come up with a plan. After hearing it, we discussed and came up with a modified version of this plan which we hatched that very morning.

I crept along the rafters, my eyes adjusting to the darkness. I dropped down onto the banister, looking down the hall, waiting. The door to the smallest bedroom opened slowly, and a dark, shadowy form slipped out. Harry. He looked at me, and I gave him a signal to wait. He nodded, stopping at the top of the stairs. He plastered himself to the wall.

I turned, sliding down the banister. I came to a halt at the bottom, looking down the hall at the front door. A large lump in a sleeping bag blocked the door. It could only be Crazy Vernon. He snapped to attention as three identical letters addressed to Harry fell into his lap. I quickly unclipped my father's old hook with a long piece of twine attached to it, swung it, and threw it. It attached itself to a lamp hanging from the ceiling. I jumped, swinging up to the landing at Harry's feet.

"Retreat!" I hissed.

"What?" he whispered.

"It's not worth it, get back, quick!"

He went back into his room, and I shook the string in my hand loosening the hook, which fell. I quickly gathered the string, darting through the door which Harry was holding ajar.

"What happened?" he whispered; the walls were paper thin.

"Vernon, the crazy git, was lying in front of the door, waiting for the mail." I explained.

Harry groaned audibly, sitting on his bed with his face in his hands.

My face hardened into an expression of grim determination. I promised myself and Harry that he would get that letter if I had to pry it from Vernon's pudgy hands myself.

Vernon stayed home to drill the mail slot shut. Despite this, many letters came Friday, finding their way into the house somehow. Vernon managed to get to the letters and burning them.

"Hey! Little help?" I knocked on the loose floorboard above me. It was pried up, and Harry's face looking down at me was revealed.

"What are you doing?" he demanded, lowering his hand to my level.

"I wasn't sure it was possible at first, but Vernon's gone even crazier!" I said, getting on his hand, which he lifted and I emerged in his bedroom. "He's boarded up the front and back doors, as you know, and he's found any and every crack and hole and sealed it. All my holes are covered, and now I have no means of getting around."

"He's really determined, isn't he? I mean, what could be in that letter that's so bad?"

"I don't know, Harry, but if this continues, he's going to crack."

And he finally did on Sunday.

I was isolated in my little room under the floor, catching up on my sleep. I was startled awake by a loud commotion downstairs. Instinctively, I shot out of bed and threw on a robe.

Not long after, Harry wrenched up the board. "Quickly, get dressed and pack just a few things. Uncle Vernon says we're going away. And do hurry!" He left before I could respond, frantically throwing a few things into a bag.

I fit nearly everything I owned into my father's bag, then changed into some warm clothes. With my bag shouldered, Harry lifted me out of the floor and slipped me into the pocket of an enormous hand-me-down hooded sweater that used to belong to Dudley.

The car ride was long and tedious, especially for me, for I was concealed in an opaque pocket with nothing to do but think and sleep and wonder where we were going.

Vernon finally stopped at a hotel somewhere. I didn't see the outside, but the inside was a real fixer-upper. That night, while Harry sat awake in the windowsill, I did a little snooping. I found out the full address and owled it to Dumbledore. In the process, I stepped in a stale puddle on the roof. When Harry saw me again, he inquired about the wet mess on my pants leg. I answered honestly that I had no idea what the stains were.

When hundreds of letters arrived the next morning, things took a turn for the worst. All I knew was that we were in the car for a long time. For a period, we were sitting in the parked car in silence besides Dudley's whining.

Vernon dragged them out of the car and outside. Every once in a while, a raindrop found its way into Harry's pocket and made contact with my face or leg. For the longest time, we seemed to be rocking haphazardly as if on rough waters. Finally, Harry managed to find a spare moment alone. The rains had died down, which meant we were inside. He reached into his pocket, pulling me gently out.

We were in the most fancy five-star hotel.

NOT!

It was a _HUT _on a _ROCK_ in the middle of _NOWHERE._

I immediately owled Dumbledore the address and that Vernon was insane and to send help right away.

Since the walls and floor were solid, I had to sleep near Harry out in the open.

I sat cross-legged on the cold floor, shivering in my thin clothes. Even with a blanket that I made a long time ago wrapped around me, the wind found its way to meet my skin.

I looked up at Harry. He was still awake, staring at Dudley's watch. I followed his gaze. Midnight was nearing. I suddenly realized; it would soon be Harry's birthday. I felt a little guilty that I was unable to get him anything. Sure, I had some money in my bag, but I never got the opportunity to actually go out and buy anything.

I looked back up at the watch. Five seconds to go. Three—two—one.

"Happy eleventh, Harry." I whispered, gently stroking a lock of his hair.

BOOM.

Something hit the hut's front door loudly. I shot up to my feet.

BOOM.

I bolted to the empty fireplace, readying my hook. I used it to climb up onto the bare mantle. I gathered the twine, re-clipping the hook to my belt, then ran along the mantle stopping at the end.

Vernon and Petunia came in, Vernon clutching a rifle.

SMASH. The door fell. I bent low into a crouch, readying my long pin.

I stood and relaxed when Hagrid walked in. I breathed a sigh of relief. Not surprisingly, no one shared this relief.


End file.
